Just as Janet predicted, Jack's initial recovery from his battle with pneumonia was slow. For the first three days he slept almost continuously, waking only when the medication helping to control his cough began to wear off. As his symptoms improved, his stamina returned and he was able to sit up for short intervals with help. Despite his constant protests, Jack resumed his breathing exercises with Lieutenant Morgan. The process was painful but necessary, helping to clear his lungs of the remaining fluid that had made him so sick in the first place.
The only significant hurdle in Jack's recovery was his appetite, made poor by the strong antibiotic that was still being given twice a day. The continued treatment was temporary; serving to bolster his weakened immune system while his depleted strength had a chance to replenish. It was discouraging to see such a normally hearty eater just push his food around with disinterest. Janet knew he was dropping weight and took every opportunity to encourage him to eat. She even enlisted the help of his team who – now that Jack was awake most of the time – had become regular fixtures in his room.
"You're going to eat that, aren't you, colonel?" Sam asked, gesturing at the untouched bowl of soup rapidly cooling on his tray. It was her turn to make sure Jack actually ate something and not just rearranged it on his plate.
The man peered into the bowl and frowned. Chicken wasn't his favorite soup variety, but it wasn't his least favorite either. Since he had an audience, Jack forced himself to pick up the spoon and ladle out a small amount of the broth. He nearly had it up to his mouth when his guts made a wet gurgling sound and he dropped the spoon back into the bowl. "I can't," he declared, sounding defeated.
Sam sighed and shook her head. She'd been trying to get him to eat for the last hour and things weren't going very well. "Sir, you have to eat," she insisted. "You don't have to finish it – just eat some of it. Please."
Jack poked at the tuna sandwich beside the soup. Again, not another one of his favorites. "I'm just not very hungry, Carter."
"This isn't about feeling hungry, sir. You have to eat. I didn't have much of an appetite when I was on antibiotics either, but I forced myself to eat and I felt better for it. And so will you." Her recovery from the infection she'd gotten in her hand was going smoother than Jack's, but she'd never gotten as sick as he did. Her course of medication had ended the day before, and her appetite was already starting to return.
Jack grunted and gave a lopsided shrug, his right arm and shoulder still immobilized in plaster. He knew he was supposed to be eating – Janet had made that very clear last night when she'd found him bouncing green peas into an empty cup at the foot of his bed rather than eating them. He just wasn't hungry. Very few items appealed to him, and even when he managed to get those, they settled like cement in his irritated stomach.
"All right, sir. I didn't want to have to do this, but you're not giving me much of a choice." Sam reached around her chair and began to make a show of searching through the many pockets of her BDU shirt. When she found what she was looking for, she turned back and discovered Jack watching her with a mixture of suspicion and curiosity. Good…that's how it should be… she thought. Now I just hope this works…
She held up two small cellophane wrapped packages. Each one contained a pair of oblong golden cakes filled with a sweet cream.
Jack's eyebrows slowly rose. He recognized the treats immediately. They were Twinkies and he suddenly wanted – needed – one in the worst way. "Ah…Carter…"
"Here's the deal: you eat half of what's on that tray, and you'll get a package of these." Sam could see the wheels turning in her CO's head. Would he take the bait, or balk at being bribed?
"Half?" he asked.
"Half. Half of the soup, half of the sandwich, and half of the carrot sticks."
Jack looked down at his tray. For someone with no appetite, the small meal that sat before him looked like a holiday feast. He had a sweet tooth, however, and the promise of a Twinkie was tantalizing. After carefully scrutinizing the tuna sandwich, he selected the piece he felt was the smaller of the two halves and took a bite. Sour stomach or not, he was determined to get that cake.
Sam released the breath she'd been holding when she saw him bite into the sandwich. She'd told the others about her plan to try bribing Jack with something sweet that morning at breakfast. She'd originally thought about using cookies, but Teal'c had suggested Twinkies. Daniel didn't think either would work, insisting that Jack was too stubborn to be swayed so easily. I guess he doesn't know Jack… she thought with an inward grin.
She picked up the remnants of her own lunch and began to eat with him. Although she'd been forced to use her left hand to eat for several weeks now, she still found it difficult and often resorted to bringing her mouth to the spoon rather than the spoon to her mouth. She'd wondered at first how Jack made the daunting task look so easy, and then realized that this probably wasn't the first time he'd lost the use of his right hand.
"So when's your science project starting up again?" Jack asked in between bites. His speech was better now that his breathing wasn't ragged and his oxygen mask had been replaced with a nasal cannula.
"My science project? You mean the MALP overhaul? General Hammond said we could start it up again sometime early next week. Janet cleared me for light duty yesterday, so I'm a little anxious to get going on it."
"Key term there, Carter: light duty. Take it from me when I say Fraiser's gonna watch you like a hawk."
Sam smiled. "I have a good team backing me up, so I'll pretty much just be supervising. Plus Teal'c's volunteered to help out until the general finds a temporary assignment for him and Daniel."
Jack finished his half of the sandwich and moved onto the lukewarm soup and carrots. "You couldn't recruit Daniel too?"
"I tried, but he's still working on the glyph images SG-9 brought back a few weeks ago. I guess he's almost done."
"Sounds like fun," he muttered around the stump of a carrot stick. "Not."
A companionable silence fell between the two officers as they ate their lunch. Despite a conscious effort not to, Sam couldn't help stealing an occasional glance in Jack's direction. Part of her still refused to believe that he was doing better and expected him to begin coughing uncontrollably at any moment. Janet had reassured her that such feelings – particularly after traumatic incidents – were normal and that they would get better with time.
Time… Sam thought as she drained the last of her soup. It was a concept she was becoming quite familiar with, especially since Janet had put her on medical restrictions. The ironic thing was that just before the accident, she'd been thinking how nice a little extra time would be. Time to catch up on half completed projects, time to read, time to work on her bike, time to relax. Just time. But now that she had it, she found she had no desire to do the things she'd previously wanted to do. All she could think about was getting back to work. And once I'm back to work, I'll probably start thinking about free time again…
A loud snapping sound close to her ear made Sam jump. She looked up from gazing absently into her empty soup bowl to find Jack's open hand in front of her face.
"I believe you owe me something, Carter," he said, pointing toward the packages of Twinkies that were just beyond his reach.
"Oh! Right. How'd you do?" Sam quickly inspected his meal tray to make sure he'd held up his end of the deal. Finding he had, she handed over a package of the small cakes and watched as he tore into them using his teeth.
"I haven't had one of these things in years," he muttered happily through a mouthful of Twinkie.
Sam grinned as she opened her own package and took a bite. The familiar flavor of the slightly dry cakes and cream brought back memories of simpler times when she was a kid. They certainly weren't her first choice when it came to dessert, but if they whetted the colonel's appetite, she'd eat them three times a day. "So are you getting excited about working with Cassie?"
"Yep. Doc's supposed to be bringing me the textbooks she borrowed from the school today. We start on Thursday."
"Sounds like fun," she replied. "And if you need any help…"
"Come on, Carter. This is middle school math and science. How hard can it be?" he asked, missing the skeptical look that crossed her face. "Besides, it's not like I've never done it. It's just been a few…"
"Decades?" she offered, thoroughly enjoying the annoyed expression that crossed his face. Sam finished off her second Twinkie, crumpled the wrapper, and tried to toss it over her shoulder into the trashcan. Her shot went wide and missed the basket by several feet, which prompted an amused snort from her superior. "Oh, like you could do it."
A cocky grin appeared on Jack's face. Crumpling his own wrapper, he took careful aim at the small trashcan on the other side of the room.
Caught up in the moment, Sam playfully tried to block his shot with her hand. It would have worked too if she had chosen to use her left hand rather than her right. Instead of intercepting Jack's wrapper, she received a nasty jolt of pain that went from wrist to elbow.
"Damn it!" she exclaimed, cursing both her pain and stupidity. She braced her arm against her chest and waited for the throbbing to subside.
"You alright, Carter?" Jack asked, deciding it probably wasn't the best time to point out how foolish that had been.
"I'm fine, it's just…" She tried wiggling her fingers and cringed. "This whole being on the injured list thing is really starting to suck."
Jack's eyebrows rose. For a smart girl like you, I thought you'd have figured that out weeks ago… "Hey, at least you're mobile."
"You mean as sore as you are and as sick as you've been, if Janet came in here right now and said you could get out of bed, you would?"
"I would."
"You sure about that?"
To prove he wasn't kidding, Jack tightened his stomach muscles in preparation to sit up. He only managed to pick himself up a few inches before the pain in his chest forced him to stop and fall back against the pillows with a grunt. "Okay…ouch. Too soon."
"Colonel, are you okay?" Sam asked, not liking how pale he had become.
"I think I'm good," he replied, his voice revealing his true level of discomfort. "I could really use a beer, though."
Now it was Sam's turn to raise her eyebrows. Bedridden, battling the tail end of pneumonia and still in a fair amount of pain, Jack O'Neill said he wanted a beer. Something about the total randomness of her CO's desires struck Sam as funny and she began to giggle.
"What?"
"Nothing," she said. "Just what you said was…"
"Beer?"
She started giggling harder and clamped a hand over her mouth in an attempt contain herself.
Finding her borderline evil giggle to be contagious, Jack began to chuckle despite the protest from his ribs. "Carter…ow…what have I told you before about giggling?"
"Sorry, sir. It's just…" She sniggered a few more times and cleared her throat, bringing herself under some semblance of control. "It's just good to hear you sounding more like your old self again."
Jack considered this for a moment before his expression morphed into the classic confused colonel look. "Beer?" He was teasing her now and she knew it. Sam started to laugh again and he joined her, bracing his sore ribs when he began to cough. Neither one of them heard Janet when she entered the room a moment later. The doctor was both pleasantly surprised and amused to find them laughing and generally having a good time. "Am I interrupting something I shouldn't be?" she asked at last, making both of them jump.
"Janet!" Sam exclaimed, startled by her friend's arrival. "No – you're not interrupting anything. We were just…"
"Catching up," Jack replied hoarsely between coughs.
"Are you all right, sir?" Janet asked, noting his shortness of breath and grimace of pain.
Coughing deeply a couple of times, Jack gave her a quick thumb's up as he plucked a tissue from the box beside him. He cleared his throat and spat the junk from his lungs into it, muttering an apology when he saw the disgusted look on Sam's face. He immediately started coughing again and Janet stepped in to help.
"Try to slow your breathing down, colonel," she said, keeping an eye on the vitals monitor as she supported to his ribs. "Sam, could you get him a drink please?"
Sam retrieved a pitcher of water from the back of the room and used it to refill the glass beside his bed. "I'm sorry," she said, passing it to Janet. "I got him laughing."
"There's nothing wrong with laughing," the doctor replied, helping her still winded patient take a drink. "It just might be a little too soon for hysterics, that's all." She gave Jack another minute to settle down. "You doing better?"
"Yeah," he wheezed. "Just sore."
"I've scheduled you for another round of nerve blocks tomorrow morning. I'm sure the effects from the first series are starting to wear off, especially where some of your ribs were re-fractured."
Jack frowned. "Great, something to look forward to." He sighed shallowly and turned to Sam, who looked positively guilty. "Thanks for the laugh, Carter. I needed that."
"I'm sorry I caused you to cough. I should have known that…"
He waved off her apology. "No harm done, okay? It's not your fault you have an infectious giggle. Besides, I'm technically the one that started it."
"Oh really?" Janet asked. "How?"
"Beer," they answered simultaneously and began to snicker.
The doctor shook her head. Some things were just better left unexplained. As she returned the water glass to the bedside table, the doctor took note of the amount of food left on Jack's tray. "So, I see the Twinkies worked."
"Like a charm," Sam replied with a smile.
"I wouldn't celebrate just yet. It's got to stay down first."
"Are you nauseous, sir?" Janet asked, continuing off his nod. "It's the antibiotic. You only have two doses left, so your stomach should start to settle down in a couple of days. Is it bad? Do you want something for it?"
"Nah, I'll survive."
"Well, how about a distraction then?" She held up the items she'd brought with her: two hard bound texts and a couple of thinner workbooks.
"Are those for me?" he asked.
"Mm-hmm." She placed them within easy reach. "These are the sixth grade texts I picked up from Mrs. Struble this morning. She's working on getting you a copy of the books Cassie will be using next year. She said she should have them Monday, along with a few suggestions for lesson plans."
Jack picked up the math book and flipped it open, taking in the thousands of equations, charts, and diagrams. Beside each problem to be solved was the answer printed out in magenta ink. "Teacher's edition…" he uttered absently. "Sweet…"
The two women shared an amused look as they watched him pan through the text, his eyes as wide as a child's on Christmas.
"Cassie has the student versions at home to work from," Janet explained. "I can get you any supplies you need: paper, pencils, pens…just let me know."
Jack had moved onto the science book and was looking at a full-page photo of the Moon. "It was a picture like this that first got me interested in astronomy. I couldn't have been much older than Cassie is now." He quickly leafed through the rest of the book and closed it. "This is great, Janet. Thanks."
The doctor smiled. "No problem, sir. This means so much to Cassie and me. She was literally jumping up and down when I told her you were going to be her tutor. She can't wait to start."
The man grinned and picked up the math book again. Just looking at the artwork on the cover brought back memories of recess, pop quizzes, and book-laden backpacks. Granted his math text had been more useful as a shield during spontaneous spitball fights than as a study guide, he had faired quite well in the subject. He just hoped he remembered enough from those early years to be a help to Cassie and not a hindrance.
Janet turned to Sam. "Did you have any plans for this afternoon?"
"Not really, no. Why?"
"I could really use your expertise up in Micro Lab 2. One of the scopes has gone down and we can't figure out why."
"Yeah, sure. I'll take a look at it," Sam agreed. "That is unless you wanted me to stay, sir?"
Jack was already lost in his reading. "Hm? No, I'm good. Go do what you need to do. The guys should be here soon anyway. I think Teal'c's starting to have Tomb Raider withdrawals. Daniel said he's been driving him nuts talking about it."
"Now I don't want your team or those books to keep you from resting," Janet told him. "You're still recovering, and the last thing you need to do is overtax yourself. If you start to feel tired, I want you to boot them out and take a nap. Understood?"
"Yes, ma'am," Jack replied, his tone far more mocking than serious.
Oh yeah, he's feeling better… She thought and started for the door. "Come on, Sam. Let's leave the professor to his work."
Sam chuckled and turned to follow her. "I'll be back later, colonel. If you're up to it, maybe we can all catch a movie or have dinner. And don't forget, my offer to help still stands."
Jack looked up from the math text. "Carter, for the last time, I've got it. I don't need help with this."
"Okay. Just making sure."
"Thank you."
"You're welcome."
The two women stepped out of the room, leaving Jack alone with his pile of books. Sighing as deeply as his sore chest would allow, he flipped to a random page and began to scan down through the equations. I don't know what Carter's talking about. 'My offer to help still stands'… please… he thought with a soft snort. This stuff is easy…simple…
"A cinch…" He turned the page to a lesson on long division. It all looked straightforward until he came across a handful of examples that made his cocky confidence go cold. "Aw crap…"
Jack looked up and saw the door to his room was ajar. "Hey, Carter!" he called, hoping she was still within earshot. "Carter! How do you divide by zero?"
Daniel idly flipped through one of the folders he was carrying as he waited for the elevator to descend further into the mountain. He had been called to Hammond's office and was on his way to find out why. He didn't think it would be bad news – not about his friends anyway.
He'd spent most of the day keeping Jack company while Sam and Teal'c were off working on the MALP upgrade. Both men kept busy with their own projects: Daniel his translations for SG-9 and Jack his lesson plans for Cassie. Daniel had been impressed by his friend's level of concentration throughout the morning. The other man typically had the attention span of a goldfish when it came to most things, and it was good to see him taking his tutoring assignment so seriously.
Too bad his studious dedication wasn't enough to keep him from trying to land that paper airplane in my ear… Daniel thought as the elevator came to a stop on level 27. He stepped out and headed down the hall toward Hammond's office.
Sam and Teal'c had joined them a little after noon for lunch. There'd been a lot of laughing, teasing, and joking between the members of SG-1, the ease of their friendly banter making it sound like they were dining at a favorite eatery rather than the infirmary. Jack's appetite had gradually been improving, and he'd spent most of the meal trying to convince Teal'c to give up his piece of chocolate cream pie.
The group reluctantly disbanded after spending an hour together. Sam and Teal'c went back to the MALP garage, while Daniel and Jack returned to their books. Daniel remained with his friend until mid afternoon when Jack finally had to give into his body's demands for rest. He'd been in his office putting the finishing touches on his report for SG-9 when the call from Hammond had come in.
"Daniel Jackson."
He stopped and turned when he heard his name. "Hey, Teal'c."
The large man fell into step beside him, his clothing spotted with grease. "Have you been summoned to General Hammond's office as well?"
"Yeah. Any idea what's going on?"
"I do not. Perhaps he has found a suitable mission for us to participate in."
"It's going to feel weird, isn't it?" Daniel asked. "Going off world without Jack and Sam."
"We have done so before."
"I know. It's just something about this time feels different. Maybe it's because they're injured and not just obligated to be somewhere else."
"O'Neill and Major Carter will rejoin us when they are physically capable of doing so. In the meantime, we must continue our mission to defeat the Goa'uld."
Daniel gave his friend a sideways glance. Teal'c, always the pragmatist…
They arrived at Hammond's office. Daniel raised his hand to knock, but the large man saw them first and waved them in.
"Come in, gentlemen. Have a seat," Hammond said, searching through his collection of papers.
"You wanted to see us?" Daniel asked as he and Teal'c settled into the chairs across from the desk.
"I did." The general withdrew two folders from within one of the stacks and set them aside. "I trust both of your projects are going well?"
"Yeah. Mine's just about done, actually," Daniel replied. "I should have the finished report to you by tomorrow."
Hammond looked pleased. "That's excellent, Dr. Jackson. I look forward to reading it." He turned to Teal'c. "I trust the MALP upgrade got underway in good form?"
"Indeed. Major Carter has an exceptional team supporting her."
"That she does," the general agreed. "I'm glad to hear you've both been able to keep busy during this difficult time of watching and waiting. Now that your teammates are showing definite signs of recovery, I thought you might be interested in going back to work."
"Do you have a mission for us, General Hammond?"
"I do. One that I think you will both find intriguing." Hammond passed each man a folder and waited patiently while they reviewed it.
"It's a dig," Daniel said at last.
"It is. According to the data SG-3 collected during their reconnaissance mission a few weeks back, a very large ship apparently crashed on this planet's surface some time ago."
Teal'c looked closely at the full-page photos of mangled wreckage. "This ship appears to be of Goa'uld origin. Perhaps an early version of a Ha'tak."
"That's what SG-3 thought as well. They didn't have the time or supplies to explore it thoroughly, so I've authorized a weeklong survey of the site. I thought both of you might enjoy going along to see what, if anything, survived. You'd be joining SG-6 and departing at 0700 on Friday morning."
Daniel looked over the mission details again. It sounded tempting – an entire week to explore a Goa'uld mother ship. Sure it had crashed, but in a ship that massive, something of value must have survived. He was leaning toward saying yes to joining the mission, but there was another matter on his mind that was holding him back. "Are you going to be sending a team back to P4J-592 to retrieve the gear we left behind?"
"SG-17 is scheduled to leave this Wednesday. They're going to pick up your gear and do a more in depth analysis of the Naquadah deposits Major Carter found," Hammond replied. "Is this something you gentlemen would like to participate in?"
The two men looked at one another. Part of them wanted nothing more to do with the alien planet that had nearly taken their leader's life. Another part, however, made them feel like they had unfinished business to attend to. They hadn't spoken of this feeling aloud, but even without words, it was clearly something they both shared.
"I think it is," Daniel replied. "I know I'd like to take another look around the barracks and collect a few samples from the bone yard we found. Maybe we can find out who the people there were related to ancestrally."
"The planet is also quite difficult to navigate. Perhaps SG-17 would appreciate a guide," Teal'c added.
Hammond considered this for a moment. "All right. If that's what you both want to do. I'll let Major Mansfield know you'll be joining SG-17. The mission briefing is tomorrow at 1500 hours and you will leave Wednesday morning at 0800. If you're still interested in the survey, you can meet up with SG-6 upon your return. Are there any questions?"
When neither man spoke, he collected the folders he had distributed and returned them to the pile. "Very well. I'll see both of you tomorrow at 1500 for the mission briefing. You're dismissed."
"Thank you, General," Daniel said as he and Teal'c stood to leave.
"You're welcome. I'm sure your knowledge of P4J-592 will be useful in completing this mission." Hammond watched as the two men left. He was still surprised that they were willing to pass up the survey mission, but their reasoning was valid – at least on the surface anyway.
I just hope they find what they're looking for… he thought, searching through his paperwork to find the week's mission roster. Whatever it may turn out to be…
'A mixed number consists of a whole number (1, 2, 3, 4…) and a fraction (1/2, 3/4, 2/3…). In order to work easily with mixed numbers, they must first be converted into an improper fraction. An improper fraction is a fraction that has a numerator that is larger than its denominator. Remember: the numerator is the top number of a fraction, while the denominator is the bottom number. The numerator is the number that is divided into the denominator. To change a mixed number into an improper fraction, multiply the denominator by the…'
"Oy." Jack let the heavy math book fall back against his lap as he scrubbed a hand across his face. He remembered math giving him a headache as a kid, and now he knew why. It wasn't so much the concepts as it was the dry, verbose way the information was presented. He was never one for reading directions, and as far as he was concerned, a textbook was nothing more than a large instruction manual.
No wonder kids hate math… he thought with a sigh.
There was a quiet knock at his door.
"It's open," Jack called, righting the book and trying to find where he'd left off.
Sam stuck her head around the door. "Are you busy, sir?"
"Carter! Nice to see you. What brings you to my little piece of…" He looked around his impersonal infirmary room, searching for just the right word. When no inspiration struck, he cleared his throat and changed the subject. "So, how's the science project going?"
"It was going pretty good," she replied, dropping into the chair beside his bed.
"Was? What happened?"
"I got busted," she muttered quietly.
"Busted? What's…oh. Busted." He needed no further explanation. The sheepish look on Sam's face told him everything. He closed the math book and set it aside. This is gonna be good… "By whom?"
"Janet."
"And what were you doing?"
"Laying under a MALP trying to loosen a stubborn bolt on the unit's suspension system."
Jack chuckled and shook his head.
"It's not funny."
"Sure it is. You just don't remember the little chat we had about the meaning of 'light duty.'"
"I can't work like that, sir. I just can't stand by and watch while someone else does all the work. I have to help. I have to get in there and get my hands dirty."
"Carter, when you're on light duty, you stand around, supervise, and point out things that need to be done. Signing off on a job completion form is about as dirty as your hands are going to get."
Sam frowned and looked down at her splinted hand. "I'm tired of sitting around. I want to go back to work."
"Don't we all?"
"I'm sorry, colonel," she apologized. "I shouldn't be dumping all this on you."
"Don't worry about it, Carter. I know how you feel. It's frustrating to be on the sidelines watching your teammates go off and have all the fun. Believe me, it's just one of the many disadvantages of getting hurt on the job," Jack explained, preferring not to think about the details of his own recovery.
"You mean there are advantages to getting hurt on the job?" Sam asked skeptically.
"Sure. Lots."
"Name one."
"Well, let's see. There's The Best of The Simpsons Volume 1, 2, 3, 4, 5…"
Sam laughed. "All right. All right! I suppose that could be a perk."
"It's all in how you look at it, Carter. Remember: The Simpsons are here for you."
"If you say so, sir," she said, shaking her head at his creative reasoning. One thing was for sure: the colonel was always good for a laugh.
"So did Fraiser pull you off the project for the rest of the day?"
"No. Just for a few hours." She picked up the legal tablet he'd been writing his notes on and began to unconsciously check his work. "How did your first lesson with Cassie go? I stopped by to see you last night, but you were already asleep."
"It went pretty good. She's a little stuck on fractions, but otherwise she knows her stuff. She just second guesses herself too much – especially if she feels pressured."
"Well she's definitely got a good teacher," Sam said, indicating his notes. "Everything here looks good."
"I can do math, Carter. It's just those crazy, blackboard filling equations that make my brain threaten to go critical."
"They do everyone at first, but then they start to grow on you."
Jack lifted an eyebrow. "Grow on you? You mean like how mushrooms grow on piles of cow…"
"So!" Sam brought the legal pad down on his leg just hard enough to break his train of thought. It was time to change the subject before their conversation started to go rapidly downhill. "How do you think Daniel and Teal'c are doing?"
"I'm sure Teal'c is doing just fine," Jack replied, rubbing the sore spot on his thigh. "And since Daniel made it through the first night without being sent home, I'd say he's doing good too."
"Do you really think Mansfield would send Daniel home?"
He gave a lopsided shrug. "Mansfield is a good guy – he's just not used to having such an…exuberant archeologist on his team. As long as Daniel doesn't geek out too much, he should do fine."
'Geek out'… Sam thought to herself. That's a new one… She was about to ask him to elaborate on this when her stomach rumbled quite loudly.
"Feed that thing, will you, Carter?"
"Sorry, sir, I haven't had lunch yet," she replied, somewhat embarrassed. "I sort of lost track of time."
"So go eat," he said, continuing when she hesitated. "Seriously. I don't want to get bitten."
Sam grinned and stood. "Do you need anything, sir?"
"Nah, I'm all…" he paused for a moment, reconsidering her offer. "Well…"
"What do you need?"
"You know that really nifty calculator you have? The one that draws lines and plays games?"
"You mean my five hundred dollar graphing calculator?" she asked. "The one that you almost broke just trying to get the cover off?"
"Yeah! That's the one. Can I borrow it for a while? I want to show Cassie how to do fractions on it."
"You can do fractions on any calculator, sir."
"I know. It's just yours is so…cool."
"I will find you a calculator, colonel. Just not mine."
"But…"
"No, sir."
"Please?"
Sam groaned inwardly. She suddenly felt like she was dealing with an overgrown child instead of her superior officer. "I will try to find a graphing calculator that you can use. Just not mine, okay?" Jack didn't look happy with her answer, but she didn't care. The last thing she needed was him to break – albeit accidentally – her expensive, high tech calculator.
"Fine," Jack grumbled at last. "Just make sure it plays games."
"I'll do my best," she replied, going to the door. "I'll be back in a while." She saw him flip her a sloppy wave as she let herself out of the room. Once in the relative safety of the hallway, Sam started to crack up. For as trying and sometimes downright annoying as he could be, Jack was almost always a joy to be around. Even bedridden and still in a fair amount of pain, his attitude remained bright and his wit sharp. She knew if he'd pegged her just one more time with those pleading eyes, she would have given in and let him use her calculator, five hundred dollar price tag or not. Thankfully she'd been able to escape before he'd had the chance.
Feeling ten times better than when she'd first arrive, Sam made her way to the elevator to begin her search for food and a calculator. As the doors to the infirmary level closed, she began to hum quietly to herself, never realizing that the tune was that of The Simpsons.
"I believe it is this way, Daniel Jackson."
Daniel quickly detangled himself from the vine that had found its way around his ankle and hurried over to where Teal'c was waiting. "We were moving so fast at the time, this part of the trail looks totally new to me."
"There has been a significant amount of growth since we were here previously, however traces of our presence do remain," Teal'c replied.
It took some careful squinting and a little imagination, but Daniel thought he could just make out the ghost of a trail. "Let's check it out."
They headed off into the woods. Behind them, the fading sounds of a small mining operation could be heard echoing through the trees. It was Mansfield's team collecting samples from the shallow mine SG-1 had found recessed into the side of the mountain. It was a loud, dusty process and the two men were thankful they hadn't been asked to participate.
Their mission with SG-17 was progressing well. They'd found their former campsite the day before with little difficulty; their abandoned gear left relatively undisturbed in their absence. After spending the night and waking to the familiar screeches of the local wildlife, they'd led the way through the woods and along the overgrown paths they had hastily cut over a month before. Having finally had the chance to see things in the light, Daniel still couldn't believe how much work they had done to get Jack home on that fateful night.
They'd arrived at the mine midmorning and the team began their survey of the area soon thereafter. Mansfield had dismissed them early on, permitting the two members of SG-1 to go off on their own. There was no discussion about where they should go; both men had gravitated to the trail that led along the mountainside and straight to the notorious alcove.
A deep sense of apprehension made Daniel stop as he approached the entrance. His recollection of the trails may have been vague, but his memory of the alcove was sharp like a photograph. It all looked the same – the trees, the grass, the mountain – nothing had changed. It was as if time had stopped the moment they'd left, only to start up again with their return.
Do I really want to go in there? He asked himself. Why did we come back here anyway? There's nothing special to see and we certainly didn't leave anything behind. So what drew us here?
He looked over to find Teal'c hovering just inside the alcove's entrance. He appeared confused, or at least at a loss over what to do next. Daniel joined him, feeling some relief knowing he wasn't the only one that felt a little lost.
"I do not recall why we came to this location," Teal'c said when he sensed his friend's presence.
"I was going to say the same thing."
A distant detonation from behind made both men jump. The survey team was starting to use explosives to advance further into mine. The charges were small, but the resulting blast was deafening in contrast to the quiet of the forest.
"We had no reason come back here," Daniel said.
"Yet we did."
"Yeah, we did."
They stared into the grassy recess, searching for the reason of their mutual return. A light breeze swirled around them, stirring up something red hidden in the tall weeds.
"Perhaps you meant to document the fate of Menoetius," Teal'c suggested, spotting the flash of color fluttering further back in the alcove.
"Maybe…" It was a valid motive, but it didn't feel like the definitive one that had drawn them both there. Whatever the reason, Daniel decided it was best not to waste the opportunity and at least take some pictures of the fallen Goa'uld. Their time on the planet was limited, and it would likely be the last chance he'd ever get.
"So this guy wasn't really a big contender in the eyes of the System Lords?" he asked as they made their way through the grass.
"He was not. Menoetius' temper often made him irrational and unreliable. It is rumored that he lost several thousand of Cronus' troops during a failed raid on a world ruled by Apophis. He ordered an attack on the planet's stronghold before proper intelligence could be gathered. Only two of Cronus' Jaffa made it out of the pyramid alive."
"Sounds like a nice guy." Daniel retrieved his camera from its pouch and knelt down beside the sun-bleached skeleton. "So stealing slaves from Cronus was the only way he could build his own empire?"
"The Goa'uld prefer to conquer, destroy, and absorb their enemy's fleet rather than assemble their own. To do so requires great patience and skill – neither of which Menoetius possessed."
Daniel snapped a few photos of the bones before focusing in on the red robes. "What I don't understand is how he even managed to steal troops to begin with. I thought the Goa'uld kept close tabs on their human slaves?"
"They do," Teal'c replied. "However the System Lords possess such vast territories, it is logistically impossible to monitor everywhere at once. It is also likely that Menoetius waited until Cronus was engaged in battle elsewhere before attempting his thievery."
"I guess he didn't count on Cronus being able to find him." The archeologist fished a pair of folding scissors from his vest and clipped a small square of fabric from the old robes. The material was soft between his fingers and felt like a cross between velvet and silk. Nothing but the best when you're a Goa'uld…
As he tucked the fabric sample away for safekeeping, Daniel's eyes were drawn to the one place he had been consciously trying to avoid. That's where it happened… he thought, looking at the patch of grass not far from where he stood. That's where Jack landed…The grass had regained most of its shape since then, but he could still see random scraps of paper and torn cloth from their rescue effort. When we all thought he was going to…
Daniel shook his head, trying to dislodge the macabre thought. Jack was on the mend; there was no sense in thinking about what might have been. But how easily those thoughts come…especially here… He was in the process of turning away from the source of bad memories when something lying in the weeds caught his eye. Kneeling, he reached into the long grass and came out with a familiar item that made him grin.
"Hey, Teal'c. I found Jack's hat. It's a little dirty, but I think it's salvageable." When Teal'c didn't respond, Daniel turned to find him frowning down at something on the ground by his feet. "What did you find?"
"It is the ma'krell stone," he replied.
Daniel felt his stomach clench. He had hoped to never see another one of those things again, let alone the same one that had injured his friends. But now that he knew it was there, something compelled him to see it again. He walked to where Teal'c was standing and peered cautiously into the grass. Staring back up at him with feigned innocence was the red stone, looking no more dangerous than the piece of shale it was leaning against. "Makes you wonder how many people its killed over the years."
"In the hands of a Goa'uld, many. Especially one with a temper as uncontrollable as Menoetius'."
The archeologist shook his head. It made him sick to think about the number of innocent lives the Goa'uld had taken in their battles for dominance. "What should we do with it?"
Teal'c raised an inquiring eyebrow.
"Well we can't just leave it here. I mean what if someone else finds it?"
"It will not function unless…"
"Unless the person has Naquadah in their blood, I know. But what if they do? Or what if it's another Goa'uld? Teal'c, we can't let this thing hurt anyone else."
The large man considered his friend's words. His sentiments towards the rock were much the same, but… "Ma'krell stones are not easily destroyed."
It was at this time that the survey team set off another explosion. It echoed around the alcove and made the ground shake ever so slightly beneath their feet. The two men looked at each other, an idea forming collectively between them without words.
"We have C4," Daniel said at last. "Would that work?"
"I believe it would suffice. The stone's own conductive properties will enhance the blast as well."
"Good. Now let's go blow this thing into a million pieces."
Daniel pulled open his backpack and took out several small blocks of the malleable explosive. As Teal'c affixed a detonator to one of them, Daniel carefully picked up the stone and pressed it firmly into another. When both blocks were ready, he joined them together to completely surround the stone with the compound. Assembly in hand, the two men went to the back of the alcove and placed it on a shallow ledge against the wall of the mountain.
"How long?" Daniel asked, poised to set the timer.
"Three minutes. We must place ample distance between ourselves and this location as the explosion may be significant."
"Right." Keying in the correct time, he held his finger over the starter. "Ready in three, two, one…set."
Teal'c synchronized his watch and both men took off running. Breaking through clusters of bushes and hopping over logs, they had placed nearly a quarter of a mile between themselves and the alcove before they began to slow.
"Is this good?" Daniel panted. "Are we far enough away?"
"This distance should be adequate," the Jaffa replied, hardly phased by their brief sprint.
Daniel sank back against a tree facing the direction they had come. From here, the entrance to the alcove was completely lost through the tangle of bushes and trees. He wished his friends were here to see this – especially Jack. He knew how much the leader of SG-1 loved action, and enjoyed the look he got in his eyes whenever he got to blow something up. "How much longer?"
"Twenty five seconds."
"I hope this works. I know it won't make Jack and Sam better, but at least the stone won't fall into the wrong hands." Mentally counting down the seconds until detonation, a stray idea suddenly came to mind. "Do you think we should have told…?"
Daniel's words were lost in a deafening roar as the C4 detonated. A cloud of smoke came billowing from the alcove and tiny bits of gravel rained down on them from above. It was a more powerful explosion than either of them could have imagined – the ma'krell stone adding its own power to the blast.
"Wow," Daniel uttered once he'd found his voice again. "Wow, that was…"
"Tremendous."
"I was thinking along the lines of incredible, but okay, tremendous works too. Do you think it worked?"
"There is only one way to determine the fate of the ma'krell stone."
The two men made their way back to the alcove, the smoke slowly clearing around them. Pieces of stone crunched beneath their feet and charred bits of plant matter floated in the air. It was quickly becoming clear that the damage was far more extensive than a couple of C4 blocks could have done on their own.
Daniel's radio made a popping sound and began to squeal. Unable to remedy the problem by changing the channel, he clicked it off. A moment later, Teal'c's radio did the same thing. "The explosion seems to have effected our communications."
"It could be on Major Mansfield's end – they're blasting too," Daniel replied. "I suppose we should have warned them about what we were doing."
They walked the remaining distance in silence, contemplating what they would find when they reached the alcove. No stretch of the imagination, however, could have prepared them for what actually greeted them when they arrived.
"Oh my…oh wow…" Daniel uttered; his jaw dropping as he and Teal'c entered the alcove. "I didn't think it was going to be that big."
"Nor did I," Teal'c admitted, as equally shocked as his friend.
The small clearing of young trees, grass, and shrubs was gone. In its place was a massive crater, the jagged edges making it look like a giant gaping mouth. Wisps of smoke rose from its cavernous center and the pungent scent of burnt earth hung in the air. The explosion had even blown a chunk out of the surrounding rock, creating a shallow cave in the side of the mountain. There was no sign of the ma'krell stone, nor the skeletal remains of Menoetius.
"Maybe we should have only used one block of C4?"
A commotion from behind had both men spinning around. Coming from the direction of the mine, it was Major Mansfield and his team hurrying towards them with their weapons drawn.
"Doctor Jackson! Teal'c!"
Daniel put up his hands and waved them over his head. "We're all right!" he called out to the battle ready team. "We're fine!"
Mansfield brought his men to a halt, but kept them on high alert. "What the hell happened?" he demanded. "We thought we heard an explosion."
"Ah, yeah. You did actually," Daniel said, glancing over his shoulder at the still smoking crater. "We sort of blew something up."
"Sort of?" The major didn't look amused.
"We sought to destroy the stone that caused injury to O'Neill and Major Carter," Teal'c explained. "We underestimated the amount of explosives necessary to complete the task, however, we were successful."
"And then some…" Mansfield muttered, motioning for his team to stand down. "Do you two realize that your little "underestimation" triggered a cave-in over at our end of the dig site?"
Daniel visibly paled. "Oh no…we never…is everyone okay?"
"We're fine. Thankfully no one was inside at the time. We just have a little extra digging to do now."
"We will assist in the clean up of any damage we may have caused," Teal'c assured him.
"You're damn right you will." Mansfield turned to his team. "Head back to the dig and start cleaning up. We'll join you shortly." With his men on their way back to work, he walked over to the entrance of the alcove and looked down at the sizeable crater.
"We're really sorry about this," Daniel said. "We knew the ma'krell stone had some conductive properties, but we never would have…"
"Is that what it was called?" he asked, the anger gone from his voice. "The thing that hurt O'Neill and Carter. A ma'krell stone?"
"That is correct, Major Mansfield," Teal'c replied. "They are widely used as the center gem in Goa'uld ribbon devices. They are highly reactive and respond violently in the presence of Naquadah."
"When we heard the explosion, we didn't know what the hell was going on. We thought it had something to do with the Naquadah in the mine. Then when I couldn't raise you on the radio, I began to think the worst. We didn't know if we were dealing with a secondary explosion or a hostile." The major sighed pensively. "So are you sure you destroyed it?"
"Two blocks of C4 and its own explosive capabilities…" Daniel nodded toward the gaping crater. "I don't see how it could have survived the blast."
Mansfield studied the damage done to the alcove for a moment. He hadn't seen the area before the explosion, but it was obvious the blast had been destructive. Large chunks of the mountainside lay strewn about and several trees had been sheered off, leaving only their fingerlike roots behind. Daniel was right; nothing – not even a Goa'uld precious stone – could have survived.
"All right – fair enough. Did you two get what you came for, or do you need more time?"
The teammates looked at one another in silent communication. Their reason for returning to the accident site had become perfectly clear. Although they didn't speak of it aloud, both men felt a sense of relief knowing the object that had hurt their friends was gone. It was a fitting end to a tragic situation.
"I think I'm good. Teal'c?"
The Jaffa tipped his head. "As am I, Daniel Jackson."
"Good, because you both have some cleaning up to do," Mansfield said, pointing in the direction of the mine. "Go ahead and start back. I'll catch up to you in a minute."
As the two members of SG-1 made their way back toward the mine, Mansfield paused to take one last look at the crater sunken into the earth. Two blocks of C4… he thought, shaking his head. Yeah – you're Jack's boys all right. No questions there….